


funerary niceties

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [57]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a kinda happy ending, F/M, Funeral, Gen, Heartbreak, Sad, remember nott asking yasha about her getting a funeral? yeah, we talk about veth's funeral is what the warning's for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 21:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: “My… funeral. Was it- at least, was it nice? I… I had one, right?” Nott asks, catching Yeza off guard.





	funerary niceties

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by @meladromatic's post about nott and funerals (https://meladromatic.tumblr.com/post/183880121535/as-funny-as-nott-and-yashas-conversation-was-in)

“Was it- Was it nice?”

Yeza looks to his wife in surprise, and sees how her ears are lowered, realizes how soft her voice is. She looks- she looks _small_ , which is, it’s unsettling, because Veth was a lot of things, and she could be shy, but she was never _small_ , even if she was technically a halfling. And, from what he’d seen of her so far, now that she was back, she was still the same stout woman he’d known. So- so seeing her small, hunched in on herself, it’s-

“Was what nice?” he says, pushing his thoughts away, and focusing on the question, keeping his voice soft so the others, grouped around the campfire, don’t hear. It takes a few minutes before she answers, but that’s alright, Yeza’s a patient man, and he studies her, as he waits. Sure, there are- well, there are a _lot_ of differences, but, if he really looks, he can see his wife. He can see her in her smiles, in the full bodied way she laughs at the jokes from her friends, in the softness in her eyes when she looks at the wizard, the human woman, and the tiefling. No matter what she says, she’s still Veth, still his wife, even if she has- has sharper edges, than she used to. It makes him sad, that she chose to leave rather than come back to them, to come _home_ , but he could never hold it against her. He loves her far too much for that.

* * *

“My… funeral. Was it- at least, was it nice? I… I had one, right?”

The question takes him off guard. Of all their time together so far, she’s had yet to ask him about- well, anything after she’d died. About his time in Felderwin without her. And- well, it wasn’t something he was keen to bring up either, and so it had stayed an unspoken weight in the air. He snaps himself out of his musings- she’s looking out at him meaningfully from beneath her green bangs, and he blinks rapidly, gathering his thoughts back about him. Her funeral-

_It wasn’t rainy, the day of her funeral. Of course it wasn’t, it was the middle of winter, it’d be more likely to snow than anything, but there was nothing- the sky was clear. There was frost on the grass, and the sun made it sparkle in the most beautiful way, but all Yeza could think about was how much Veth would’ve loved it. There was a crisp breeze in the air, and over all, it was a perfect day, if one ignored the circumstances that brought them outside in the first place._

_There was no casket. That wasn’t how things were done, and a waste of resources besides. Instead, Veth lied on a wooden pallet covered in straw and grass, most of which Yeza had insisted on laying down himself. Her hair was braided the same way she did it when she was- when she was alive. He’d threaded in flowers of every kind, daisies and daffodils and tulips and roses and peonies and- and she looked beautiful, but all Yeza could see when he looked down at her was her eyes._

_Her bright, brilliant green eyes, that show like emeralds in the sun, that reflected mischief and wonder and every passionate feeling Veth had ever known that the brightest mirrors in all the planes. And Yeza looked down and saw those eyes dull. So dull, and cold, and not the luminescent wonders he cherished so much, and that was what nearly broke him. But he held his son’s hand, and let the tears run down his face, and nothing more. He could break down later tonight, after his son was taken care of. Not right now._

_He raised up his other hand, and rested it on top of hers. Her tanned, calloused hand, rough from her life on a farm, and in the Apothecary, covered in myriad little scars from their workshop experiments, the nails still chipped and uneven. He held her, for seconds, and then let her go, allowed the priest to continue the rights, but he didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. Yeza watched as his wife was lowered gently into the ground, and held his son, and they walked home quietly, studiously ignoring the pitying looks from their neighbors._

Yeza shakes himself out of the memory, and finds himself staring into Veth’s eyes, now a bright, golden yellow. They give off a slight glow, in the dark, now.

“Your funeral-,” he coughs, clears his throat, tries to blink away the tears growing in his eyes, “It was- it was just as beautiful as you are, Veth.”

**Author's Note:**

> love love love me some angst with these two <3


End file.
